The Runner is now the Prey
by Empyreal Evadine
Summary: When a fight breaks through, Sarah's boyfriend wishes her away. Now he has to run the labyrinth while she stays in captive of the Goblin King. In the end, she has two choices: to stay or to go. WARNING: May contain sensitive topic.
1. Prologue: Oblivious to her surroundings

Disclaimer. I do not own any part of the Labyrinth or the characters. The only thing that belongs to me is the characters I make up and the plotline. This magical realm belongs to none other than Jim Henson, may he rest in peace.

* * *

A young woman sat at her desk, moving her hands quickly across rows of keys. She knew she had to get her thoughts out before she would forget them. Her memories of the Labyrinth had begun to fade, but she knew for a fact that they were not just dreams. The Goblin King Jareth was real. Hoggle, Ludo, Sir Didymus and his noble steed Ambrosias were also real. Since the day she had left the Labyrinth, she found it to be an inspiration and started on her journey as a young novelist.

Although, there was one thing that she did regret, sort of. As time flew by, she found herself asking why she hadn't accepted Jareth's offer to stay with him in the Underground, in the castle—his castle—with him. Of course, she then erased the idea because Toby was involved in this situation. She was glad to have been able to rescue Toby from the Goblin King, but in the novel she wrote about her adventure, in the end, Toby was able to go back to the Aboveground while the heroine stayed in the Underground.

She had somehow given the appearance that the Goblin King was in fact in love with this heroine, but that was just a simple thread of hope she gave herself. It was as thin as a strand of her hair, yet it glimmered when light touched it. She looked on the far right corner of her desk to see that small thread. She had bought it a few years ago to attempt to remember her childhood escapade.

Unfortunately, as she grew up, she did wonder from time to time if they truly were there or if they were a figment of her imagination. She did have vivid dreams when she was a teenager. She shook her head. She was going at it again, thinking there was no such thing as a Goblin King. He was real. He _is_ real.

By now, she had stopped typing. She had been running her fingers across her black ball point pen. She's had a habit of doing that while she was trying to concentrate. She took the pen and clamped it down between her lips, the tip and end of the pen stuck out from the corners of her mouth. She looked at the time and realized she had only thirty minutes to get ready before she left for dinner at Sam's house, her boyfriend of four years.

She quickly typed in the last few sentences of the paragraph she had been writing and typed in side notes to guide her in the direction she wanted to go. She did this a lot so that she wouldn't stray from her path. She looked around the room for a small, compact notebook, the pen still in her mouth. She needed something to bring with her in case she caught a sudden jolt of inspiration, which occurred a lot these past few months.

She spotted one on the top of her drawer and grabbed it, taking the pen from her mouth and inserting it into the spiral that held the notebook together. She found a small bag to hold the notebook in and quickly dumped it into that. She tossed her bag on her bed, which needed to be made since she neglected it this morning. She didn't complain, she was bound to sleep in it later on today, anyway. She swung open the two doors of her closet and quickly chose a white blouse and dark blue jeans. She ran into the bathroom, plugged a curling iron in, and hurried to take a quick shower. After her shower, she dried her hair as best as she could and clipped it into sections. She didn't have time to have her hair all fancy like she had wanted, so she decided to style her hair in loose curls.

She stared at herself as she waited for the last strand of her hair to curl. She hadn't changed much, really. Her face had only become longer and leaner. Her emerald eyes were still bristled by the charcoal brown of her lashes. Her lips were still pouty, a nuisance really, in her view. Whenever she had an argument with Sam, he would always change it around and admire her pouty lips and how he could never take her seriously as long as she made that face.

She huffed out a breath and grabbed onto the tip of the curling iron to remove it from her hair. Her movement was too quick and, unfortunately, she ended up burning the tips of her fingers in doing so.

_Always impatient_, she chided herself mentally.

She slowly, and carefully, detached the curling iron from her hair and set it down on the side of her sink on the marble countertop. She pulled the plug out carefully and allowed the curling iron to cool off. She inspected her fingers and even though it would have a few minor scars, she figured it would be best if she ran it under cold water. She looked down at her sink and twisted the knob with her right hand for the cold water. She allowed the cold sensation to dissipate the sharp, heated pain radiating from her fingers. She looked back up and did a once over on how she appeared. She considered herself…decent.

She shook the thought and walked out of her bathroom. She opened the closet door once again and grabbed a pair of shoes. She walked over to her bed and sat on the end of it, slipping her shoes on. She was really going to miss this place—her home. Of course, she was only here for the winter holiday. Even though she had moved to her dorm in college, her things were still here. Her shelves were still in the same place, along with her stuffed animals. She smirked at the missing spot in between two of her other stuffed animals. Sir Lancelot. Toby had taken a liking to him, so she decided to let him have it.

Her vanity table was still there. Everything was still on it, ranging from photographs, to her makeup, and small trinkets. After getting her other shoe on, she stumbled over to the chair and looked at the lipstick capsule. She figured it wouldn't hurt to do this one last time. She picked up the tube and opened it. There was still a large amount of the lipstick left in the container, since she hadn't used it much when she returned from the labyrinth. She patted the matte material across her bottom lip and rolled her lips together to spread it evenly. She looked in the mirror and as she was about to utter the words she had memorized, her phone buzzed.

She closed her eyes and let out a deep breath she had been holding. She opened her phone after the third buzz and looked at it. Her eyes widened as she realized she only had five minutes to get to Sam's house for the dinner.

Quickly, she turned the alarm off and grabbed the bag which contained her notebook and pen. She closed her laptop in a hurry and looked around the crystal necklace she had found. She saw it on the top of her shelf and she picked it up, fastening it around her neck. There wasn't much of a history to how she found the necklace, but now wasn't the time to ponder on it. She opened the door to her bedroom and stormed down the stairs. She grabbed the keys to her car and bolted for the door, opening and closing it behind her. She unlocked the car and in five long strides, she was in the driver's seat. She put the key into the keyhole and pressed down and turned it clockwise to hear the roar of the engine come to life.

She smiled in satisfaction and buckled herself up. She pressed on the brakes, put the car in drive, and made her way to Sam's house.

"Sarah," he began. "You're ten minutes late. I was beginning to think you bailed on me or something." He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I had to get a few pages done for—,"

"Your novel," he interrupted, "yes, yes, I know." Sarah couldn't help but notice the slight edge in his voice when he interrupted her. "Well, come in, its cold outside. You'll catch a cold, seeing how you forgot your jacket."

Sarah gave him a small smile and walked in, silently kicking herself inside for forgetting that darn piece of clothing. It was warm in Sam's house, a little too warm for her liking. Sam closed the door behind her and she looked back, suddenly wanted to be outside. It felt better out there. In his house, it felt cramped and honestly, the heat was turned up to the point where it was suffocating. She felt as if she was in the middle of a large crowd that was huddled together in a subway, the passengers constantly squeezing together to make more room for the other people.

"Come," he beckoned her.

She followed after him into the dining room, a hesitant smile playing on her lips. When she arrived in the dining room, there was no one in there besides Sam and herself.

She frowned and averted her gaze to Sam, away from the lit fireplace. _As if it just couldn't get any hotter_. "I thought you said your parents were going to be here as well."

Sam shrugged. "They went out to go dancing for a while. They wanted to give us some privacy." He winked at her.

Sarah merely shrugged it off as she sat down in a chair across from him. There was no doubt in her mind that he could tell she felt awkward—unless he was completely oblivious. He played with his fork for a bit before looking at her.

"I'll go check if the roast has finished cooking," he said, excusing himself from the table.

Apparently, he felt the atmosphere in the room turn stiff. Sarah shrugged it off and retrieved her notebook from her bag. She had to write. Today must have been one of those days—the days that she'd done doing nothing but write, taking only moments to grab a bits of morsels or to go to the bathroom. Today altogether was nothing but bad timing. She couldn't control it when she wrote, it just happened. It was an itch that needed to be scratched constantly and if she left it there for too long, she would most probably drive herself mad.

Of course, she didn't know. Every time she itched to write, she satisfied it by allowing the pen to move freely across the blank canvas of the page. And that's what she did. She wrote. She knew that she was supposed to be spending time with Sam, but writing came first to everything. The _Underground_ came first to everything. She had gotten so caught up that she hadn't noticed Sam's return, of course until he cleared his throat.

Sarah raised her eyebrows and attempted to pull her head up from the words on the page, but her hand kept moving, persistent in designing the page with her cursive handwriting.

"Sarah," he said, trying to get her attention.

Again, Sarah raised her eyebrows. Her hand was still glued to the page.

Sam had gotten impatient at this point. He reached over and put his hand over hers, the one she was writing with. Sarah looked up and blinked, zoning back into the real world.

"Sarah, can this wait? I want to have dinner with you." He pleaded. "I'll let you finish after dinner, I promise."

Sarah nodded. "After this last line."

She was about to continue writing, but Sam continued to hold on to her hand. "Sarah, you know as well as I do that one line will turn into two and two will turn into a paragraph and that paragraph will magically transform into ten pages."

Sarah frowned, but reluctantly closed her notebook. She slid her pen back into the spiral and placed it into her bag.

"Thank you," he murmured.

Sarah nodded her head. Just because he didn't allow her to write didn't mean she couldn't delve on her ideas for when she would continue. She sat in the dining chair, her hands in her lap, smiling at the plotline that seemed to twist out before her. Sam gave an exasperated sigh and left once again to check on the roast, or so that's what Sarah believed she heard.

She honestly wasn't in the mood for food or any sort of action that didn't allow her to write. So when Sam placed a large portion of roast on her plate, she only picked at it with her fork, taking a bite or two every now and then. Sam across from her was on his second piece and was about to take another until he looked at Sarah. He was getting fed up with her, acting moody whenever she didn't get what she wanted.

He took hours to make the roast, he practically _begged_ his parents to allow him a night of privacy with Sarah. She couldn't even appreciate being with him. She wanted to write about the Underworld—ground—whatever!

Sam slammed his fork and knife down on his plate.

"Are you going to eat at all?" He asked her. His voice was tense and even she could tell he was getting angry.

Sarah smiled, involuntarily, of course. "I am," she pointed at the small uneven edges of the roast. "I'm just thinking."

"Of course," he said, "always thinking. Constantly daydreaming about that damned world of yours."

He huffed out an angry breath and grabbed another piece of roast. He was cutting through the roast so hard that it scratched the glass plate beneath. Sarah decided it would be best if she just ate the rest of the morsel, and so she did, slowly, of course. They both sat there, Sam in anger, and Sarah in a silent state, not wanting to say a word. She wasn't scared, just a bit hurt that he said such things about the Underground.

He didn't understand, though. Sarah doubted he would ever understand. He wasn't there to see the Underground for what it is. He may have read her stories, yes, but he wasn't there to capture the pure beauty of it—the essence of what continues to draw her to this place. She looked down at her empty plate, but it was filled once again with another piece from Sam.

She continued eating, but this would have to be the last piece. She decided to decline the next if he offered another. The piece that Sam had given her was a lot thicker than the last, so she had to take small pieces in order to be able to chew it. Just as she was halfway done with her roast, Sam threw down his knife and fork and let out a horrendously loud belch.

Sarah winced at that and placed her own utensils down, neatly, on the sides of her plate on the napkin. She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but closed it. She looked up at him, timid. He held a smug grin on his face.

"Did you enjoy the roast?" He asked, propping his elbows on the table and clasping his hands together.

Sarah nodded. "It was good," but her voice only came out to be a murmur.

For some reason, her reply agitated Sam. He stood up abruptly, kicking the chair from underneath him. He went around the dining table and grabbed Sarah's wrists, dragging her out of the chair. She stood before him, cowering underneath him. His hands squeezed both of her wrists and she gave a yelp in response. He smirked, seeing that he was still able to hurt her.

"I see you have your attention on me now, don't you?" He asked, through clenched teeth. "Do I always have to inflict pain in order for you to pay attention? Hm? This should be your punishment for whenever you think of that—that _King of the Goblins_ folly."

"He's not a folly," Sarah murmured.

"What's that?" Sam queried.

"He's not a folly," she repeated again, this time finding her voice.

Sam gave her a smug smile. "Really." He said, unable to believe her defiance.

He snatched her notebook from her and flipped to the last page. "Ah, here it is, that little famous line of yours. The _wish_."

"Sam," Sarah warned him.

Sam smirked at Sarah. "I'd like to watch you crumble to the floor while I read this aloud for you to find that _faerytales_ aren't real."

"Sam, it's not a faerytale." She tried to snatch the notebook back from him.

His eyebrows rose in astonishment and he raised the notebook higher. "So you really want this notebook that bad? I want to ask you something, would you rather chose the," he sneered at upon saying this, "_Goblin King_ or would you rather chose me?"

Sarah didn't answer him; she just wanted her notebook back. She continued to jump for the notebook that was out of reach.

"Of course you would choose _him_." His sneer deepened. "I'd bet the Goblin King isn't as perfect as you describe him in this novel of yours—such trivial and childish nonsense." He looked down at the crystal necklace around her neck. "And there you go wearing that _cheap_ crystal necklace. Did you not like the diamond necklace _I_ gave you? No, of course you wouldn't. You're too stubborn to even realize the things I go through to give you everything. I'm assuming that necklace is there because it reminds you of those—those _balls_ he twirls around in his hands, doesn't it?" When he didn't get a response from Sarah, he pushed Sarah away from him and looked at the last page. "Very well," he began, "since you want to be with him _forever_ let me just say the _magic_ words." His eyes flickered in excitement to be able to crush her dreams of this Goblin King. "I wish the Goblin King would take you, Sarah Williams, away, right _now._"

* * *

Hello everyone :)  
I hope you enjoyed it. I've been a HUGE fan for a while and it took me quite a bit of courage to post this up. I wanted it to be...different. I'm not sure as of yet to whom the point of view will be in, but it most probably will be between Jareth and Sarah. I'm writing the second chapter right now as I type this and I can't wait! :D

Well, I'm not sure what you can leave a review about, but I would love some! :) They encourage me and, well, I might need a bit of confidence to be able to write the rest of it. The more you enjoy it, the more I will write! :) Thanks for reading, again! :D

12.28.2010 Edit: I've added a bit to the end and somewhere in the beginning to flesh it out a bit more. :)

~EmEv


	2. Chapter One: Anticipating the King

Disclaimer. I do not own any part of the Labyrinth or the characters. The only thing that belongs to me is the characters I make up and the plotline. This magical realm belongs to none other than Jim Henson, may he rest in peace.

* * *

His eyes flickered in excitement to be able to crush her dreams of this Goblin King. "I wish the Goblin King would take you, Sarah Williams, away, right _now._"

They both stood still, waiting for him to appear. The grandfather clock in Sam's first living room somehow made its appearance in the dining area, though sound of course. Unfortunately, for Sarah, the sound made her anxious. She was hoping he would come and show Sam that he was real. Another part of her didn't really want to see him. He wasn't the villain. Yes, he did take away Toby, but only because Sarah had wished for it. Her eyes remained on the floor. She couldn't stand to see Sam's smug smirk. After ten minutes or so, Sam smirked triumphant. Sarah looked away, her face covered by the veil of her dark brown hair.

"Don't cry," He taunted, "He's not real, Sarah. For all you know, you could've been writing about this majestic man, but really he was nothing but an ugly short goblin himself. I mean, honestly, do you really think this Jareth of yours would really fall for you, Sarah? You may have written about him in your stories doing so, but come back to reality. You have to grow up. " He tossed her notebook into the lit fireplace. "There, piece of cake."

Sarah stared at it as the corners were slowly engulfed by the flames. Before a thought could cross her mind, her body was already in motion, lunging for the notebook. She bit her lip, enduring the pain for only a moment. She quickly tossed the notebook out of the fireplace onto the floor and began patting at the flames with her hands to put it out. It was a foolish thing she did. She hadn't even thought of the consequence of her actions. Her fingers on her right hand were blistering hot. If she thought that burn she had received from earlier had hurt, it was nothing compared to the stinging pain on her hand. The burn wasn't major, but it was going to leave a scar.

"You shouldn't have done that. Forget about the Underground and focus more on what is _really_ happening in _real_ life. You don't have to worry about the ugly Goblin King anymore. I'm here. Besides, if you'd let me, I'd bet I'm better in bed that that ancient, wrinkly fool."

Sam wrapped his arms around Sarah and patted her back, softly. He wanted this to happen to her. He wanted her to feel vulnerable and make her believe that he was still there. It wasn't for good intentions—no, not in his mind. He had a reason for why he ushered his parents out that night and for setting the temperature to one of a sauna. He had every intention of taking away her innocence after this dinner. He smirked, believing he was only one step closer.

Sarah pushed him away from her, using her left hand. She was already upset, but now she was exasperated. She had burned her right hand in rescuing her notebook. He had insulted Jareth, claiming he was better in bed, but she wouldn't know that herself. It was still wrong to lower someone's dignity that way. To call him ugly and short had been a completely understatement. The Goblin King was far from ugly and he was obviously very tall, but Sam didn't know that. He assumed and stereotyped Jareth because he is the Goblin King. If he had been an Elfin King, maybe Sam wouldn't have called him that. Then again, knowing him, he would just call him a short, pointy-eared freak and refer to Santa's helpers. That wasn't the only thing upsetting her that night, though. Jareth didn't come. Every trace of hope she had had vanished in those ten minutes. She had been sitting in this _sauna_. It was _too_ hot in this house and yet he had the audacity to breathe his humid, onion-scented breath down her face. The heat only made her more frustrated.

Suddenly, Sarah and Sam's attention had been captured by the large crash of noise, followed by a small explosion upstairs. Sam, believing it was a burglar, quickly ran into the garage to come out with a crowbar.

He pressed himself against the wall as he climbed the staircase and tightened his grip on the crowbar. Slowly, he slid next to the door, taking a small peek through his peripheral vision. There was a large mess in his room. The window was closed and there were no signs of a break-in. He walked into his room to see the platter of fruits and chocolate scattered across the white carpet and on the black silk bed set he had bought earlier that day. He found the source of the explosion. It was the can of whipped cream. The can had been sliced down the middle and its contents were on his wall, door, and mirror. Soon after, he came back down to find Sarah and her notebook gone. The only thing she had left behind was a sloppy note torn from a page in her notebook.

_I'd choose the Goblin King over you any day._

_

* * *

_

As promised, I've posted a chapter before the New Year. I don't like the length of this chapter, but I knew before I re-wrote this chapter that I wanted it to end it with the note. Forgive me for it's short length. I wanted to give it a bit of ambiguity.

Did the Goblin King finally show up? Did he take Sarah with him?

Maybe he did, maybe he didn't. Leave a review, if you want—it's completely optional, although, highly encouraged. xD

Tell me what _you_ think might happen in the next chapter. I've already written the second chapter, but I want to see what you all think before I post it. :) I hope it'll come off as a surprise, or shock, or maybe it was expected, due to Sam's nature.

I wanted to thank everyone for reviewing and for following this story. :) It made me happy to see someone enjoying it. I write for my own personal pleasure, but I get a better feeling when I share it with you all. :D I literally get this cheesy, cheesy smile and giggle when I get reviews. My mom has witnessed this attack when I went to check on my story a few days ago. :) I will try my best to stay true to the characters. I know right now that Sarah is out of character, but she'll get her 'Sarah-ness' back… I think. o.o

Other than that, Happy New Year everyone! :)

~EmEv :D

(P.S. I think Jareth might make his appearance in the next chapter. I'm not sure; it depends on where I find a good cliffhanger.)

(P.P.S. Sorry for this long note at the end. I'll try to keep it shorter next time.)


	3. Chapter Two: Vulnerable

Sarah," Karen's voice sang through the hallway, coming closer.

Sarah was despondent, though—crushed, more of it. She questioned why she had continued to stay in a relationship with Sam when she had to deal with domestic abuse, snide comments about her writing, the Underground, but most of all, Jareth.

Sam had been diagnosed with being bipolar in the second year of their relationship. She felt it would be wrong to leave him in such a wrecked state, but no matter how she tried to help; the result had always been the same. She always ended up getting hurt. If she hadn't pitied him, she wouldn't be in this situation. She wouldn't come home with bruises she had to hide. She kept thinking she could help him somehow, but maybe it had gone too far out of hand. Her dreams wouldn't be crushed. She wouldn't have thought her stories and childhood memories were just that-faerytales. He had wished her away. The same way she wished Toby away, but he never came.

The Goblin King never came.

_Jareth_ never came.

She tried to curl up more into a ball on her bed. She pulled the covers over her head and stifled a whimper with her hands. The emotional stress started to overcome her. She had become broken. She felt as if she had lost that fighting spirit inside of her so many years ago. She felt as if she had become a shell of what she once was—a strong, outspoken girl.

"Sarah," she heard Karen sit down on her queen sized bed. "How did today go? You're home so early."

When Sarah didn't answer her, Karen frowned and pulled back the covers. Sarah shielded her eyes from the sudden rush of light.

"Oh," Karen sighed upon seeing Sarah's tears. "Did you two break up? He was planning to propose to you tonight."

Sarah bit down on her bottom lip, but reluctantly answered. "Would that be before or after he tried to get me in his bed?"

Karen's face fell and she sighed. "Oh, Sarah, I didn't know."

She had asked Sarah what had happened, and she told her everything—from the bruises to the Sam being diagnosed with being bipolar, and especially what happened today. Karen nodded and shook her head now and again to let Sarah know she was listening. She didn't want Sarah to have the wrong impression of her—that she didn't care and had only worried about Toby. It had taken years for Karen and Sarah to set aside their differences—for her dad's sake, since he was almost at the brink of insanity. That was three years ago.

"I'll go tell your father. Stay home. Don't go out until it's time for you to return to your dorms." Karen patted Sarah on the knee and gave her a small, sad, but reassuring smile before she left.

Sarah signed and slumped into her bed, throwing the covers back over her head. She let out a loud, compliant groan. Misery had already started eating away her insides.

Karen was worried about her. Even though she had liked Sam, she did not know of his true nature. This made her second guess almost everyone. Sometimes, appearances really can be deceiving. She had to tell Robert about it, but she debated whether it would be the right thing to do. He did have a temper, and he was also very overprotective when it came to his children—their children.

She went downstairs and continued cooking dinner, sometimes checking the door to see if Robert had walked in. She turned away when the door closed and continued stirring the broth in the pot. Then, two warm arms wrapped around her waist and she smiled.

"Smells good," Robert whispered.

"It's almost finished," Karen told him.

"I can't wait. I'm starving."

Karen smiled. "Alright, go get washed up."

Robert smiled and pecked her on the cheek before walking away to wash up. Karen decided it would be best to tell him later. After dinner and after Toby was asleep.

* * *

"He _what_?" Robert exploded.

Karen placed her hands on his shoulders, trying to calm him down. "Rob, you're going to wake Toby."

Robert opened his mouth to say something, but shut it suddenly. His body started shaking. He was livid. A _boy_ had the nerve to touch his daughter, or attempt to, but nonetheless, his actions were still impure. He pinched the bridge of his nose and slowly released a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"We're going to make sure Sarah stays here," he said, slowly, "under our protection. I'm not going to let her leave the house—not while that _boy_ is still here."

Karen nodded. "I've already told her to stay inside until it's time for her to go back to her dorm."

Robert shook his head and waved his hand. "No, not even that."

Karen frowned. "Robert, she has to go to school. She'll be safe there."

"No, she won't. There are many students who attend that school. This is a small town. A lot of people may know her dorm number."

"I trust her enough to be able to handle herself."

"Handle herself? That _boy_ almost took advantage of her."

Karen folded her arms, tilting her head to the side. "Exactly, Robert, _almost_."

He waved his hand. "Almost is close enough. I won't allow it."

Karen frowned at Robert. "Rob, I know you've been upset about Sarah going to college, but she's growing up. You can't keep her here forever. Ad if she were to—I'm not saying she would," she added, quickly noticing Rob's expression changing, "but if she were to—"

Robert shook his head impatiently. "Enough. Enough. I'll let her go back, but I want her under heavy supervision. I don't want any male getting near her. Not until she's married."

Karen pursed her lips. "Rob, how will she get married if she can't date anyone?"

"That's the point."

Karen blinked at him. "Isn't that a bit unfair?"

"Or we pick for her."

Karen put her hand on his shoulder. "Rob, when the time comes, Sarah will make the right choice."

Robert waved the thought away. "If that boy comes back around here, he'd better run the moment I see him."

"Robert! That's very impulsive of you," she chided. "We should have a chat with his parents regarding his actions. _Together_." She made sure to put emphasis on the last word.

Robert paced the room for a good five minutes, deliberating if he should. He would hear an earful if he told her no. Then, she would pester him for an answer and a simple, "because I don't want to," or "because I don't like them," will not be a reasonable explanation for not meeting with his parents about their son's behavior. "Fine," he answered.

It was simple—simple enough to satisfy Karen and bring a small smile to her face. Robert climbed into bed next to her and pulled the covers up.

"I guess we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow." He murmured before drifting off to sleep.

* * *

Karen and Robert sat on the couch across from Sam's parents, Zulia and Matt. There was a small, wooden coffee table decorated with a small orchid plant that was just budding. Along the wooden edges, there were small, intricate designs that distracted the eyes with its many swirls and lines. They were strategically placed to entrance any person who looked at it.

Zulia looked around the room, a red flush staining her cheeks. Her hair was in a black and white tangled, curly mess as if she were unable to tame it, and her eyes were a wild grey—just like her son's. Matt on the other hand, looked well groomed. His dark brown hair was slicked back and not a strand was misplaced. He stared across at the Willams with a cold, hard stare with his icy blue eyes. Sam looked like a clone of Matt, except for his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Zulia apologized. "I wasn't aware we were going to have company today."

"There's no need to apologize, Zulia." He turned his gaze back to the Williams. "Will this take long? I have a meeting to attend to."

"On a Sunday morning?" Rob questioned, suspiciously.

"Yes, is that a problem?"

He shrugged it away. "No, not at all. In fact—,"

Karen placed a hand on Robert's knee, stopping him from continuing on with any harsh comments.

"We've come to let you know of your son's actions last night." Karen said, looking at Matt and Zulia, who both seemed to be nonchalant.

"My son's behavior?" Matt scoffed. "Did you see the mess your daughter made in my son's room? Did you know she encouraged him to buy bedding sheets, snacks, and other items for that night? Did she tell you she _forced_ my son to lie to my wife and me to get us out of our own house to do that? Or did she make herself seem innocent and untouched? God knows how many men she's allowed herself to be touched by. She is a _college_ girl, nonetheless." Matt snapped at Karen in an icy tone.

Robert was about to jump out of his seat when Karen held him back—barely.

"You do not talk about my daughter like that. Your _bipolar_ son is the one behind this. My daughter would _never_ lower herself to such standards. As for the items brought by your son, he had made those preparations on his own. It had only been three hours before the 'date' when Sarah had gotten a text message about this dinner—a _text_ message, not even a phone call. He only told her there would be a dinner, and a movie, not to mention the fact that he also said that the two of you would be there, as well."

Matt chuckled. "Now, why would my son do that? He knew Zulia and I were well on our way to a play, which we enjoyed very much until we came home to find our son on the ground bloodied up, and crying. My son does not cry. He is a _man._ Men _never_ cry."

Robert jumped to his feet. "Are you trying to imply something?"

Matt stood up, as well. "Maybe I am."

The two wives stared each other for a moment until Karen spoke up.

"Why don't you call Sam down, and he will recount the story?"

The two wives stared at each other, both looking embarrassed and ashamed by their husband's behavior. Finally, when Zulia stood up, Matt quickly turned away from the argument he'd been in, and tried to help his wife up, which she waved away. Karen didn't notice it until Zulia stood up. Her leg had a large gash along the side with burn marks. She cringed as she saw Zulia struggling to walk, while rejecting Matt's help at the same time, which made her balance unstable. Matt sighed, exasperated.

"Samuel!" Matt called up the stairs. When he didn't get an answer, he led Zulia back to her seat and disappeared up the stairs.

Karen and Robert exchanged worrying looks. They could tell Zulia was discomforted by something. They had hoped it was only a coincidence and that it had nothing to do with Sam. The first thing that came to mind was Sarah. Was she okay? Did he hurt her? Where is she now? Of course, the questions wouldn't have mattered. Robert made sure to secure the house before he left—or so he thought.

Suddenly, Robert felt his throat closing and tried to swallow. He looked at Karen hesitantly and she read his eyes, already understanding what he was trying to tell her. Anxiety spread across her face, but she quickly hid it—away from Zulia.

When Matt appeared in the room again, he was fighting with himself. The expression clear on his face. He turned towards Robert and Karen, his expression icy.

"My son is sleeping. I would appreciate it if you left my house," he said with a strained voice.

On that note, Robert and Karen jumped up—not out of fear, but out of worry for Sarah. They had to get home. They had to get to her. They had to make sure she was alright. The car ride seemed twice as long—even though Robert was speeding. They kept running into red lights, as if some unknowable force was trying to stop them. At an incredibly long stoplight, Karen turned towards Robert, worry written across the fine lines of her face.

"Rob, do you think—,"

Robert sighed. "Karen, please. If that boy had the nerve to even touch my daughter. . ."

Karen allowed Robert to trail off. There was only a few times where she had seen Robert this angry. She admitted it was quite intimidating. Actually, it is intimidating. They sat that way for the rest of the ride—in silence. In the back of their mind, they kept thinking of Sarah. Toby was at a friend's house, so if Sam had shown up, at least a small part of them was relieved that Toby was alright.

* * *

Hey guys.  
I'm sorry I've taken so long to update this story. I didn't entirely give up on it, I just had a major case of writer's block-like, nuclear level. I've been trying to fit it in with my schedule, but my school and work refuses to let me. Then again, there is also the drama of everyday life. I've been having a lot of problems with this chapter. I have about five or six spin-offs from the first chapter. I couldn't figure out how to end it, though. I was debating on when I should drop Jareth into the story, and none of the other chapters seemed to really fit as well as it should have.  
I won't make any promises, but I'll try to update sooner.  
*EmEv 3


	4. Chapter 4: Run, Sarah, Run

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I only own Sam..unfortunately.

"Sarah?" Karen's startled voice sprang through the hallways of the house searching for her step-daughter.

Robert stood where he had been standing for the past hour—just a few steps away from the closed front door. He couldn't believe it. He didn't know where to start or how to find her. Where she had gone or who could've taken her.

A lot of things ran through his mind—too much to be able to focus on one topic. He just needed everything to calm down. He needed a second to himself to try to figure things out. He needed to tackle them one by one, but he was sure if he were to do that, he wouldn't be able to save her in time. His daughter. His only daughter.

Gone.

It hadn't been twenty four hours, yet. So, there was no way of him being able to report his daughter as a missing person. He couldn't jump to conclusions. Especially about that boy Sam. Robert sat down on the sofa, taking in deep breaths to calm him. There had to have been a reasonable explanation for why she was missing. He rubbed his forehead. He couldn't believe he let Karen's paranoia get to him so easily.

She could've gone to the store to pick up some bread—Karen and Robert had forgotten to do their weekly grocery run, and it should not come as a surprise if she was hungry. He had to think reasonably and not jump to conclusions. He had a bad habit of doing so. Karen ran down the stairs, even her footsteps sounded frantic.

"Oh, Rob, what do we do, now? What if that boy took her?" She combed her fingers through her hair. "Oh, I knew that boy was a maniac!" She stomped her feet in aggravation and frustration.

"Karen," Robert rubbed his forehead, exasperated. "Sit, please. And think reasonably."

She remained standing. "Robert! Our daughter is out there, probably scared, cold, and starved. We don't know who has her right now. I can't—,"

"Karen," Robert cut her off this time, looking at her directly. "Sit down and calm down."

Karen's mouth snapped shut and she sat feebly in the armchair diagonal to him. She opened her mouth, unsure if she should speak or not. Robert continued to rub his temples with his eyes closed. Karen took that as a sign to shut up. She looked at her hands and twiddled with her thumbs, looking around every now and then, sheepishly.

Sarah's head was pounding. She touched her forehead, but instead of dry skin, she came in contact with a thick, wet substance. Her vision was blurry. She couldn't tell where or what she was in. She groaned, holding her head. If only this pain could go away, she whined.

She took a deep, calming breath. Sitting here complaining would do her no good. She had to find out where she was and get home. She could already tell by the thick musk of humidity that she wasn't in her house. She could feel the dirty, grimy floor below her. She fingered the ground. Dirt? Mud?

She squinted her eyes, trying to get her surroundings to come into focus. There were grey horizontal bars surrounding her. Her eyes shot open. She was in a cage! She held onto the bars next to her, using them as support as she hoisted her body onto her feet. She was about to walk to the opposite side, but was stopped short. There were chains around her ankles.

"This is just absolutely barbaric," she murmured as she looked around, trying to find a solution to her problem.

"Yes, it is _absolutely_ barbaric, isn't it?" a familiar voice said in a mocking tone.

Sam.

Sarah froze. She didn't dare turn around. He chuckled at her reaction. There was the sound of keys jingling, and then the gate opened. He didn't bother to close the door because he knew she couldn't run with those shackles around her legs. Then again, where could she run to? She had no idea where she was and he picked an area secluded from most of society.

He smirked, his footsteps created loud, squishing noises as he slowly walked through the wet dirt. "Sarah." He whispered. She shivered as she felt his breath on her neck. "Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you. Too much."

He created a trail with his fingernail from her wrist to her shoulder. Sarah bit down on her bottom lip, stifling and cries she may utter at the sheer repugnance of him touching her. She hated feeling helpless.

"No one can hear you scream, now, my dear." He sighed, breathing in the scent of her hair. "Take your clothes off."

"No," Sarah murmured.

"What was that?"

"No." Sarah said, more confidently. "I'm not going to."

"You stupid little—" he twisted her around so she was facing him and she cried out in pain from the shackles cutting into her skin.

"I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of letting you control me!" She spat in his face.

He sneered and he kneed her in the stomach, causing her to fall onto the ground in a fetal position, writhing in pain. He grabbed at her clothes, trying to rip them off as best as he could, but she continued putting up a fight, kicking him.

Once most of her clothes were off, he started working on taking off his own. He had just slung his belt when he heard three slow, mocking claps behind him. Sam turned around, glaring. He came face to face with a man dressed in odd clothing, with very odd hair.

"Naturally, I am not an exuberant fan of… voyeurism, but I do have to apologize for the…" he looked back and forth from Sarah and Sam, "intrusion."

"Who are you?" He asked, annoyed that he interrupted something _very_ important.

"You summoned me, did you not?" He tilted his head, placed his fists on his hips, and threw him a mock smile.

"What are you talking about?" Sam sneered. "You talk weird."

The man's demeanor fell and he suddenly looked very annoyed. His eyes grew dark, and there was an aura around him that made Sam flinch. He knew this was a dangerous man.

"The Goblin King. You summoned me." He took two steps forward, his boots barely making a noise in the mud. "By technicality, of course. You wished someone away to me. I am merely here to collect what you do not want." He held his arm out. "If you do not mind. I will be on my way."

Sam continued to back away from the man, jumping as he touched the steel bars behind him. He turned around, looking for Sarah and patting the ground where she was. He returned his attention to the Goblin King.

"Where is she? What did you do with her?" He yelled.

"Forget about her. I could give you all your wishes." There was a strange glint in his eyes as he reached out to show Sam a crystal ball. "Look, and you will see your dreams—everything you've always wanted!"

Sam, tempted and curious, leaned in to look inside the ball. The Goblin King cackled and threw the ball in the air. Suddenly, a swarm of bats started attacking Sam. Sam threw his hands in the air, trying to fight them off and as quickly as the bats had appeared, they had also disappeared.

He looked at the ceiling for any traces of bats, then looked at the Goblin King. Sam sneered at the man who had a smug, condescending smile plastered on his face.

"Give her back. I want her back. Right. Now. She is _my_ property." Sam seethed.

"If you want her back, you must get to my castle in the center of my labyrinth." The Goblin King walked closer to him with his hands on his hips. Sam looked to see if Sarah was hidden behind him, but she wasn't. "Do not fret, human. She is safely put away in my castle."

"Where is this _labyrinth_ of yours?" Sam asked, looking down on the oddly dressed King.

The Goblin King tilted his head and pointed behind Sam. Sam turned around, and suddenly the whole scenery changed. They were no longer in the dingy, dark dungeon, but on the outskirts of the labyrinth.

"You have thirteen hours. If you fail to reach the center of the labyrinth, Sarah will become one of us." He smirked, walking backwards and disappearing.

The Goblin King's laughter could be heard all around Sam. He turned around, looking for some sort of projector. This has to be some sort of new technology. He narrowed his eyes at the labyrinth. It looked as if the labyrinth was breathing—as if it were alive. Sam shuddered and began walking, attempting to look for the entrance.

* * *

Hi, everyone. So, it's been a while... a REALLY long, LONG while. I am disappointed in myself for taking so long to update. I've just found the chapter I was supposed to put up on my flash drive. (Thank goodness I found it. It had all of my other original stories there, too).  
But yes, the long awaited Jareth chapter. I had a bit of trouble getting his character right. :/ I mean.. who can imitate a really awesome Jareth? (aside from David Bowie 3).  
So, there's going to be more of Sam along the way-unfortunately. :( But it brings a bit more drama-not that it doesn't have enough drama as is.  
In the next chapter, you'll be able to see interaction between Sarah and Jareth, our beloved Goblin King. This will be their first meeting after a really long time. I'm curious to see how it'll turn out, myself.  
But yes, thank you for reading-and for reading this long A/N.

You all are the best. :)  
-EmEv


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